


A smile as cold as Hell

by ChopinWorshipper



Category: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Crossdressing, Gen, Hyde being Hyde, M/M, a what-if-scenario, but it was a fun tumblr request, hyde is really creepy here, in the canon of my story they don't meet before that transformation, lanyon meets hyde long before the transformation when he learns his identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChopinWorshipper/pseuds/ChopinWorshipper
Summary: A scenario in which Dr. Lanyon meets Hyde 7 years before the transformation. Hyde is doing drag, because he's Edward Hyde and because he can. He's also extremely creepy towards poor Lanyon here. Give a hug to the poor doctor.
Relationships: Dr. Hastie Lanyon/Dr. Henry Jekyll (past)
Kudos: 12





	A smile as cold as Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moon_hedgehog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_hedgehog/gifts).



Normally Lanyon didn’t take nightly walks.

But the night had just looked so pretty and he hadn’t seen such a clear night sky here in London in ages! He just had to take advantage of this night.

The streets were so quiet … so empty … it was honestly a bit unsettling. He could hear his own breath and footsteps.

He didn’t know why, but something put him on edge.

Had he not known better, he would have thought it was the darkness. But Lanyon wasn’t afraid of the dark.

There was something else.

But before he could ponder more about it, he heard another person’s footsteps.

Light, quick and odd in a way.

Strange.

Was he not the only one going for a nightly walk after all? Or was there someone going to or coming home from a night of debauchery?

Curiosity got the better of him and he leaned against a wall, hiding in the dark.

Right in that moment, someone came around the corner.

A tiny female with very revealing clothes, which Lanyon couldn’t help but be appalled at.

_What is a child prostitute doing in this part of the city?!_

He caught up to her and came to her side.

“Excuse me, Miss? Are you lost?”

She inhaled sharply and recoiled, as if stung by a tarantula.

When the person turned to face him, he realised that _she_ was, in fact, a _he_!

Lanyon would have been embarrassed at his error, but he was too spooked to really care; there was something extremely creepy about the boy that awakened an irrational revulsion in him, a desire to either run away or hurt him.

He was pale and dark-haired and apart from that rather androgynous-looking … his eyes were acid green and what the hell, they were glowing in the darkness?!

The hoary doctor felt a shudder run down his spine.

The boy, having recovered from his own shock, replied coolly. “No, thank you. I don’t need help.”

His voice was husky, high-pitched and as androgynous as the rest of him. But something about it gave away, that the boy wasn’t as young as he looked.

But what was even stranger: he was certain that he had never seen this boy before, yet there was something familiar about him, although he couldn’t pitpoint it.

For a second Lanyon considered, if perhaps he was talking to a hermaphrodite, but then he abandoned that thought. It was probably just the clothes.

Speaking of which …

“Do forgive my boldness, boy, but I must ask: is there a reason why you’re walking around looking like a child prostitute?”

The boy chuckled throatily and something about it made Lanyon sick to the stomach.

“I’m not a boy, Dr. Lanyon.”

Lanyon’s alarm bells rang.

“Have we met before?”, he inquired suspiciously, “Because I am pretty sure that we haven’t, yet you know my name.”

A sinister grin appeared on the young man’s face. “Oh, there is a lot of things I know about you.”

The older man felt all colour drain from his face. “Who the hell are you?!”

“You know who I am, Doctor Lanyon. Do you not recognise me?”

“No, as a matter of fact I don’t!”

The young man in drag snickered (and it sounded absolutely frightening): “Well, if you really can’t figure it out, let me give you a hint: Dr. Jekyll thinks about you quite a lot – and about a certain Mr. Utterson, whom I haven’t had yet the honour of meeting.”

“Oh really”, Lanyon snarled, “And how exactly would you know what or who he thinks about?!”

He yelped in shock, when he was pulled down to the younger man’s eye level.

“That is for me to know”, the other purred, “And for you to find out – if Jekyll ever chooses to enlighten you, that is. You’re estranged, after all.”

“That doesn’t change the fact, that he’s my friend.”

The other’s creepy, glowing green eyes widened. “Oh? But you haven’t spoken to him, since you two parted over … _certain differences_. It was he, who broke your nose, eh? And yet, you still consider him your _friend_?”

_He knows! How the hell does he know?! There is no way Henry told him!_

The smaller man continued: “But of course, if you want, I can give you another hint.”

Suddenly a little, spidery hand entangle itself in Lanyon’s colourless hair and pulled him into a savage kiss.

The hoary doctor made a muffled sound a protest and tried to push the other away.

But the dark-haired man didn’t budge – at least not for the sake of the unwilling older man.

When he finally let go of the other, his eyes were full of diabolical passion and malice.

“Oh, how beautiful your eyes are, especially when you’re frightened like this – truly beautiful! Think of this moment and of me, my good Dr. Lanyon”, he purred darkly. “And who this kiss and I remind you of. Bye-bye!”

Then he just walked away like nobody’s business, leaving behind a slightly traumatised Lanyon.


End file.
